


Sultan's Delight

by Inkn1ght1



Category: Diriliş: Ertuğrul | Resurrection: Ertugrul (TV)
Genre: Ebu Mansur aka Sultan Aladdin, Explicit Smut, F/M, One Shot, Smut, born from that one scene in s3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkn1ght1/pseuds/Inkn1ght1
Summary: She saw him and felt things she thought she could not feel anymore. So what if he is a complete stranger?
Relationships: Ebu Mansur/ofc
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Sultan's Delight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelonewolfwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonewolfwrites/gifts).



> "Sultan's Delight" is born from that incognito entrance Sultan Aladdin made in S3 of Dirilis Ertugrul.
> 
> The PoV change is mentioned.

Her

Ebu Mansur.

The man looked like no merchant I had ever seen. 

His eyes were lighter than most men. He wore silks and satins. His turban had beautiful dark feathers on a stone-studded brooch. His lips were frowning, but his eyes were taking count of everything surrounding him.

Even Ertugrul Bey gave him respect. He was never that way with any other merchant. There was something about this enchanting stranger. I could not take my eyes away from him when he rode up to the tent. He sat on a horse like it was a throne. A magnificent specimen of a man. 

I stood still. 

_How long had it been??_

Three years. 

Three years since Burak achieved _shahadat_. The rug house and the bakery kept me engaged. I had not felt the need for a man in all these years. But one look at this complete stranger, and I was a goner. 

I remembered the feel of a man's hand on my thighs, a hot breath on my nipples. On cue, they pebbled and the rasp against the cotton of my dress was torturous. Traitorous wetness spread from my inner being. I pressed my thighs together. 

And he looked at me. 

Not me. Not really. 

In my general direction. But in my heart, he had looked at me. Our eyes had met and he had read my body in it. I looked away. It would do no good to dream of such a man. 

*************************************

Someone called me.

I went outside.

"Hayme Ana wants us to serve dinner to the guest. Come along."

She walked away.

_Serve dinner. To Him???_

I went back to my tent. I needed a moment to find my breath.

****************************

The _hünkar beğendi_ I carried was my own recipe. It smelled divine. The fact that Hayme _ana_ included this dish on the menu was a godsend. At least this man will eat something I created. Some part of me will be his. 

I don't know how I became this infatuated with someone in such a short period. I was an adult woman, for crying out loud. 

I had to compose myself another moment before I walked into the tent. 

Abdurrahman was such a darling, holding up the tent curtain without complaint while I took my time.

And hence it so happened that when I finally stepped inside, who should look at me, but the man of my daydreams?

He took me in slowly, deliberately. Those eyes, that would be the death of me. 

I bowed to him. And he nodded back, a very slight incline of his head. 

I looked at the table, or I would stumble. 

A platter of pastrami, meat pilaf, and a big bowl of Hayme _ana's_ _channa dal_ soup. The pita looked freshly baked. The aroma was still in the air. I leaned down and placed the platter of _hünkar beğendi_ down. Hayme ana smiled at me. She ladled spoonfuls and poured them into bowls. I took one bowl and placed it in front of the merchant, as Hayme ana did for Ertugrul bey. 

He looked at the bowl, and I felt his eyes on my fingers, slowly drawing up my arm. He didn’t follow through but looked at Hayme ana. They spoke in low voices. Or my ears were full of my own pulse, and I couldn't hear anything. 

I bowed to them and moved back out. 

I did not go to my own tent. I walked to the edge of the tribe. The early nights were warmer here. The moon, a sliver in the sky. The lit torches threw light on the wooden fence. I sat on one of them. It wasn't very comfortable, but I liked it here. And there was nothing else to sit on. So I hooked my legs on the lower rail and held on. It was just me, and the night. 

I did not know how long I sat there gazing up at the sky. The stars were brighter now. It felt like they were telling me something. 

They were telling me the same things they told me before. To move on. To take another husband. To find someone to share this life with. 

I did not listen until tonight. 

Tonight, I felt like it was time. It was time to move on. To keep Burak and his memories in the past where they belonged. to find someone who would cherish and love me, would walk hand in hand with me, would hold me when I stumbled.

_“Müsaade!”_

I stumbled in surprise and strong hands held me up. 

“I didn't mean to frighten you." He whispered, close to my ear.

He held my arm and the opposite shoulder. I had leaned back to balance, and I felt a strong chest behind me. I thought I could feel his heartbeat in my own heart. 

"I am okay."

I said slowly, trying to regain my balance. 

"Are you though?"

His rich baritone was a balm to my stumbling heart. 

He helped me get down safely. And only then did he let go off my arm.

I felt the warm imprint of his palm on me. I wished they would never fade. But they were, already. 

He looked at me, with a smile on his lips. 

I had to strain my neck to look him in the eyes.

"The _hünkar beğendi_ was really good. It has been years since I tasted something as perfect as that."

His voice was soft.

"Thank you."

An awkward silence. But he was yet to look away from me. 

"I have to go." I pointed behind my shoulder. " Goodnight."

Before I could turn away, he asked, " Do you really have to go? "

I frowned. _Why is he asking me such questions?_

"Is there someone waiting for you?" He asked, looking towards the night sky as if the answer did not matter. 

"No. " I replied. 

He leaned his forearms on the log I had been sitting on and turned his head towards me. 

I should have excused myself and left. But I lingered. Then I said, " I am not married anymore."

Now, why did I say that?? I wished I could hit my head on a flat and strong surface, the nearest being his chest. How would he react if I did that? Runaway, most probably. 

He raised an eyebrow. 

"I can stay for a while." I walked to him and leaned back against the log. What is going to happen anyway? 

He will be leaving soon. I would never meet someone like him ever again. And this night, a few moments maybe all we will ever have. 

He bowed.

"Thank you" 

We did not speak. We watched the night. 

Moments passed. 

The tent was quieting, people settling down. We stood in silence, watching the night slip away from us. 

“Shall we?”

He spoke quietly.

I looked at him. There were promises in his eyes. Promises that were too tempting to ignore this night. A shiver spread through me. The night was getting cold. 

I nodded. 

We walked towards his tent without saying anything more. 

_What even was there to talk now?_

There was darkness surrounding us even as we walked towards the lit torches near his tent. He held out a hand in front of me and I walked into it. 

I inhaled sharply. 

He stared for a moment. Then put a finger to his lips. 

“Let me send away anyone who is around.” 

I nodded. 

_Hell, take me!_ I hadn’t thought of that. It was some golden luck that no one had noticed us till now. 

He walked away. I waited by the shadow of a tent. 

He spoke to the guard and went inside his tent. A few minutes later, another man walked out of the tent. 

The guard and the man walked away. 

Someone from the tribe must be watching the tent. 

_What am I to do now? Maybe I should turn back._

But I cannot. Allah helps me, I cannot turn away from this man. 

A commotion arose from the direction in which the guard had gone. A shadow peeled away from behind a tent nearby and headed towards the direction of the commotion. 

_Dumrul._

I rushed to the tent, just as Ebu Mansur opened the flap. We looked to the sides and he grabbed my hand to pull me inside. Done under two seconds. 

I slammed into him in the hurry. He caught me by my arms and turned around. 

His turban was off. His dark hair spilled over his shoulder. The gray in them made him even more attractive. I raised my hands and touched them. He smiled and pulled me closer. His arms came around me. I laid my head on his chest and sighed. 

His heartbeat was even. And soothing. 

'It has been so long.' I mumbled.

''How long?'' He asked. 

''It doesn't matter,'' I replied.

''It does. '' 

''Why?'' I raised my eyes to him.

He took my hands and led me to the mattress. We sat, knees touching. His long fingers traced my calluses. But his gaze never left my eyes. He raised my palm to his lips. 

“So I can treat you as you deserve.” He spoke into my palm. 

I could not speak. Not while his lips were tracing my fingers. 

''Say something '' he whispered.

I simply shook my head, and he bit my finger. His teeth closed down on the tip of one finger. He was gentle, but I felt that deep inside me. I gasped. 

Then he licked the little hurt. My toes curled inside my shoes. My hand clenched on his. He groaned and pulled me into his lap.

My arms went around his neck and he buried his head in my shoulder.

He inhaled.

''Spices..'' He murmured.

I was too far gone for speech.

I stroked his hair, long and lush. “Three years,” I said. 

Without lifting his head, he tugged on the bindings of my dress. 

He kissed my throat, the side of my neck, and bit down while inserting his hand inside my clothes. 

I was struggling with the emotions, the feelings echoing in each nerve of my body. His calloused palm covered my breast. My very naked breast. 

A growly moan escaped me. 

He raised his head. Our eyes met and held. But his fingers kept up the kneading motion. 

“Is this..is this how… you take care… of me??” I gasped. 

He rumbled in a rough laugh. A very predatory laugh that I felt in the core of my essence. 

My hand clenched on his shoulder. 

“You are wearing too many clothes,” he complained as he pulled my dress off me. 

“So are you.” I stood up and stepped out of my pants. 

He didn't make another move. He sat back and took me in. A slow perusal from head to toe. 

He looked pointedly at my socks for a minute too long. 

I shook my head. 

_Enough was enough._

_I wanted._

I walked to him till mere inches separated us. He took my hips in his hands and kissed my belly button. I felt his teeth and pulled him closer. 

A moan. 

A groan. 

He grabbed me closer. I pushed back. 

“Clothes!”

He stood and took off his robe. He was wearing too many layers. 

_Who was he?_

But he stopped at his pants and sat back down. 

It was my turn to look pointedly at his remaining clothing. 

He shook his head. 

I shrugged. _He will take it off, eventually._

I straddled him. He was hard as a rock under me. 

He groaned and I smiled. 

A raised eyebrow was what I saw before he cupped me in my most intimate part with bold fingers. 

My eyes rolled back into my head. I muffled my moan on his shoulder till he pulled me back by my hair and started kissing my neck. 

He kissed, sucked, laved, and bit. I was a mess. His finger delved and retreated in me. Wetness dripped.

My hands were restless, gripping his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. I pulled him off me and kissed his neck. 

_My turn._

He let go. And I scrambled down from his lap to kneel before him. I sucked at his neck. My tongue drew a path down his chest. My nails scraped his nipples. 

He groaned and his hands stroked my nape. 

I licked his belly. 

I untied his pants. 

His beautiful erection stood proud in a mass of dark curls. I licked once, the sweetness exploded in my mouth and mind. 

“Ebu Mansur!” I gasped and he stilled. 

One moment, I sucked him, the next I was on my back and he was stripping his pants off. He came back faster than lightning, pulled my legs wide, knees up. He kneeled before me. 

I held my hand out to him. 

No more waiting.

He came, raising one of my legs around his hips, widening me for him. He came down on me, fingering my nipple. I gasped. His mouth closed on it, licking and biting. I moaned. The punishing bites were driving me to the edge. An edge I had not been to in a long time. An edge, I had no intention of reaching without him. 

I raised my hips to cradle his hardness. 

It was his turn to groan. He rubbed himself against me in a driving motion. 

We both moaned. 

He touched me. An electric arrow through my nerves.

I had put my hands around him. My fingers dragged nail marks on his back. 

He thumbed the nub of my desire and slowly inserted a finger inside me. 

_Aaah..._

''So tight.'' He gasped. 

I closed my eyes as he added another finger.

''Now please!'' I demanded.

''No, _güzel kraliçem_. I will not hurt you.''

I whimpered. I was close. but I will not go without him...

''Please, Ebu… ''

His mouth on me, not letting me complete the word. He sucked in my words. 

Our tongues tangled, lips meeting and parting, tasting lust and wanton possession; we were lost in us.

His fingers moved in me, a rhythm of the swift river, coursing molten through my veins. He strummed me like I was an ancient instrument of songs. I cleaved to him with everything I was. 

His fingers disappeared. So did his mouth from mine. I was dazed and greedily raising myself up for both. But then something other than his fingers entered me. Larger, sturdier and so very much hard. 

He was a large man and he accounted for it. 

I felt stretched raw. It was abrasive, this intrusion. A very masculine groan sounded. 

I saw him, straining above me. His eyes closed, his hand clasping on my hip, his mouth slightly open. 

He was a vision I would never forget. This was a man who never lost control. How I knew that was a mystery, but I did.

Then his rhythm was off, just as my mind blanked. A million stars residing in my head exploded in unison, and I cried.

Later, he was lying half on me, half on the mattress. His rough fingers tracing a circle around my breast. His breath was on my cheek. His heavy thigh on my own. He nuzzled me.

'' _güzel sultanım!''_

I smiled. 

I was content. 

It was as beautiful as I imagined. He was as perfect as I hoped for. 

I turned to him and he hugged me closer.

****

Him

It took me a few moments to orient myself. The ceiling was that of a tent, not the palace. I was mostly naked, but for the soft fur covered blanket and a woman's pliant body plastered to my side. She rested her head on my chest, my arms were around her. Her hair spilled over me, a waterfall of darkness.

When was the last time I woke up with a woman in my bed? Or even slept with a woman, in the literal sense?

Years ago. Many many years ago. 

I had not planned on sleeping this night. But something about her... 

She squirmed against me, delicious friction of her body against mine. 

My body was fully awake and ready to go. 

She laughed softly. 

She noticed how awake I was. She rose up like the siren she was and climbed on me. 

No coyness, no pretenses. 

She straddled my hips and stroked me. 

'Now!' My demand was a groan.

She obliged, taking me inside her wet hot entrance with slow steady precision. 

_What even was this heaven_!

Her enraptured moan was music to me. I raised myself up to meet her, taking in how abandoned she looked in her ecstasy.

Her hair flowing over her shoulder, giving teasing glimpses of a beautiful breast. Her other breast uncovered and begging for a caress.

I plucked her exposed nipple and she moaned. Her movements were erratic. I could feel the molten embrace of her core tightening around me, pushing me to the narrow edge between pain and pleasure. In another blink of a moment, we were thrown off the path, and we fell. 

She, a molten fire, and I, the glass burning.

*********************************

Her

It was maybe two weeks later that I heard the gossip. 

I was in the rug house, mixing the herbs for the dye. 

''Really? Who could have imagined?'' Someone was in shock. 

Then the news spread like wildfire. When it reached me, I almost fell over. Thank God I was already sitting down.

A rumble of thunder in my head.

_Ebu Mansur was the Sultan??_

I excused myself and forced myself to walk, slowly. I wanted to run, to scream. But I walked. I entered my tent and fell on my pillows. 

He was... He was unreachable. 

That's when I realized that I had hoped he might one day return. 

Now I knew he never will. 

My hopes and dreams crashed into me, a river of loss. 

I cried. I cried for a hope that never had a chance. I cried myself to sleep. 

It was perhaps closer to midnight when I woke. It was a memory.

A memory.

_güzel kraliçem!_

_güzel sultanım!_

My beautiful queen.!

I cried again. This time, not in loss. 

**Author's Note:**

> "Sultan's Delight" is another name for hünkar beğendi, a Turkish dish made from eggplant.
> 
> ana = mother  
> channa dal= chickpeas  
> Müsaade= permission  
> güzel sultanım=my beautiful princess  
> güzel kraliçem = my beautiful queen


End file.
